Pacts
by Snegurochka
Summary: Written for the Knockturn Alley Fiction Challenge – Genfic Missing Moments 12: “James, Peter, and Sirius tell Remus their Animagus plan and show him their forms.”


**Pacts**

It was the low creaking of bones that always woke him first, before any alarm clock could get to him.

Remus rolled over in his four-poster bed, the snores of his companions in Gryffindor Tower drifting softly through the room. He glanced over at the window and knew by the foggy light outside that it was just past dawn.

_Right on time_, he thought, with a touch of bitterness. Even on a Sunday morning, the wolf wouldn't let him sleep in. Always had to be up at the crack of daylight, as if– what, exactly? As if there was hunting to be done? As if he was an _actual_ wolf, a normal animal, not some god-awful unnatural _creature?_ He snorted and rubbed his eyes.

_Fifteen years old_, he thought, rolling over and trying to sit up. _Fifteen years old and I feel about ninety_. The mediwizards said it wouldn't be long before he'd need a cane to help him walk. Merlin's sodding beard. _How long?_ he'd asked them. _Don't know, lad_, they'd answered. _Not a condition we see every day, you understand. Maybe a few more years. Maybe ten, at most. But eventually..._

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sighed heavily. No, he supposed having all your bones broken and reformed once a month wasn't the best way to ensure long-term health. His mother had cried that time, at St. Mungo's, when they'd first mentioned the cane. As though she'd had some great plans for him in life that he would never be able to fulfill now. As though the bite had been the mediwizard's fault. His father had just remained silent, and somehow, for Remus, that had been even worse than the crying.

He pushed that memory out of his mind, pulled on some clothes, and slipped out of the dorm. He was used to being up long before the others. He was used to being quiet.

Heading down to the common room, Remus noted with a small smile that the rising sun was just where he had left it the morning before. The sun comforted him, and despite the early hour, Remus had to admit that he rather appreciated being awake to watch it rise. He knew it was boringly predictable, that someone who despised the moon so much should love the sun, but he didn't concern himself too much with clichés. He took small pleasures where he could find them. No, he didn't mind being awake so early; it was being alone that was starting to wear on him.

There were his friends, of course. Sure, he had great friends – James and Peter, and Sirius especially. He'd never really had friends before coming to Hogwarts, but then again, he'd never really even thought about it. He had just been a kid, then, and in between spending half of the month getting used to the Transformations, and the other half avoiding his weepy mother, he hadn't been too concerned about heading to the playground with the other kids.

But Hogwarts was different, and the place seemed to suit Remus in a way he'd never thought possible. He hadn't even needed to look very hard for friends. James and Peter and Sirius had all just been in his dormitory from the first night he arrived, and they'd been inseparable ever since. He was lucky in that respect, and he knew it.

Dumbledore had sworn him to secrecy, had made him promise not to tell any of his classmates about his condition. But Remus rather prided himself on the fact that he didn't hang out with the school idiots, so of course the other three boys had figured out the truth before long. Yet, it hadn't bothered them. Indeed, it never ceased to amaze Remus that even after finding out the truth about him, his friends had stuck by him, had offered to do anything they could to help him through his Transformation every month. "There's nothing you can do," he'd told them. "But thanks, mates. Thanks, anyway."

Yes, he had good friends. _Real_ friends – the best he could ask for. But they didn't get up at five a.m. every damn day. They didn't have to stay after class to make up for work missed during the full moon. And more importantly, they couldn't help him through those long hours at the Shack, trembling, waiting for the bones to start cracking. There were still a great many moments when Remus had to face the world by himself.

Remus shivered. He looked out the common room window – past the crimson and gold curtains, past the lazily rising sun – and immediately found the moon. Even in daylight he could always see it, sense it, trying to hide behind the clouds. Never fooling him. An hourglass ticked on the far wall, interrupting the oppressive silence in the room.

He was alone. He _felt_ alone. All the time. James and Peter could never help him with that. Not even Sirius could help, though he tried. Sirius especially was always cooking up some scheme or other that he claimed would help Remus out. Remus smiled softly to himself as he gazed out the common room window at the early morning mist. He was never quite certain just how Sirius thought he could help. His friend didn't seem to understand that there were some things he and James and Peter simply couldn't do, couldn't be there for.

Remus sighed again and got up to start a fire. It had been a long winter, and even though spring should have already arrived, it seemed to be taking its sweet time this year. He muttered a spell at the fireplace and to his surprise, it actually worked, and a blaze ignited in the grate. _Take that, Professor Flitwick_, he mused. _Take your 'P' in Charms and stuff it_. Too many missed classes, you say? He shook his head and chuckled softly. Then he settled back into one of the overstuffed armchairs and opened the book he'd left lying out the night before.

A scuffling sound at the window caught his attention, and he looked up. A tattered-looking grey rat was perched on the sill, its eyes darting around the room apprehensively. It had patchy fur, and Remus couldn't help but notice that its features were just slightly askew: ears too pointed, toes too long, tail too fat. It seemed rather excited about something.

"Oh," he said kindly, smiling at it. "Well, hello there. And where did you come from?" If there was one thing he had learned not only from his life in the wizarding world in general, but from his own lycanthropy, it was not to judge a strange animal before getting to know it; any number of secrets might be stowed behind its eyes. And besides, there were literally hours to kill until breakfast, and in truth he didn't mind some company – even if his companion took the form of a potentially plague-stricken rodent. He stretched a hand out in friendship and let the rat climb into it. He was a bit surprised that the rat didn't race off to hide under the sofa; on the contrary, it scampered into his waiting palm and looked up at him expectantly. The boy could have sworn the animal was grinning.

"Did you just catch a canary?" Remus teased. "You're looking awfully pleased with yourself about something." He stroked the rat's back gently, wondering whose pet it might possibly be. He knew a few lads in the dormitory who had toads, and a couple of girls who had cats, but he didn't recall ever seeing a rat in here before. "Well, whoever you are, and whatever you've been up to," he murmured to it, "I'm glad you're here. I could use a friend this morning."

The rat leaned into his hand as Remus went back to his book. They sat together for a long time, until finally the rest of the dormitory began to wake up and rumple-haired Gryffindors slowly filled the common room, rubbing their eyes and yawning collectively, as if they'd rehearsed it upstairs. The rat tensed slightly and turned its head to Remus, apparently uncertain of what it should do next.

He laughed softly at it. "You know, you remind me of a friend," he whispered to it. "He's quiet as a mouse most of the time, and never seems to know what foot to put in front of the other unless someone reminds him. Ow!" he paused as the rat nipped at his hand. "Sorry, mate. Didn't mean to offend you. All I meant was that it seems to me my friend really knows, deep down, exactly what he wants to do at any given moment. I just wish he'd stand up for himself and make his own decisions sometimes…" He caught himself in his reverie and snapped back to reality to find the rat still gazing at him intently. "Well," he concluded. "You might remember that advice as well, hmm?"

The rat burrowed playfully in his hand for a moment, then scurried off. Remus watched it go and felt a momentary pang of sadness. But a second later James had appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

"Up already, Remus?" he said in mock surprise, as he did every morning. "Well come on, then. Time for breakfast, yeah?"

* * *

"Wooo! I did it!"

"Did what?"

"And you lot thought I was too stupid, that I'd never figure it out."

"You _are_ too stupid. You _will_ never figure it out."

"You don't even know what I'm talking about!"

"So?"

"James! Tell him to stop being a wanker to me."

"Stop being a wanker to him, Sirius."

"Fine, fine. So what are you talking about, Pete?"

"The rat thing. I– I did it. This morning."

"Oh yeah? For real this time? No remaining human, er– _extremities?"_

"Hey! That only happened once, and _no_, I got it right this time."

"You have got to be kidding me. I gave you all the help I could, and you were still hopeless."

"Thanks a lot."

"No, Sirius, he's got it. I gave him a few more pointers, and he's been practicing every day. He looks pretty convincing."

"Yes! I'm very convincing."

"That's great, Peter. We're proud of you. Aren't we, Padfoot?"

"Yes, all right, my heart is simply bleeding with pride."

"Well, I don't even _care_ what you think, Sirius. Remus liked me."

"Wait. What did you say?"

"You showed Remus already! You cheating little prat!

"It's not my fault that you two aren't ready!"

"Aren't _ready!_ Oh, you little - "

"Sirius! Calm down, mate. What's the harm in letting him be the guinea pig – er, so to speak? So, Peter, did Remus know it was you?"

"Nope. Just thought I was a stray rat. He was very nice to me, though."

"Good old Moony, always stopping to chat to stray animals."

"So, when are you two going to–"

"Shhh, he's coming."

"Hey, Remus. Ready for Transfiguration this afternoon?"

* * *

"Mr. Lupin!" the voice called sharply as its owner snapped his fingers. "Come here, boy. You've got extra work to do today." Professor Kettleburn glared at Remus and led him to a paddock on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"Oh, come on, Professor!" Sirius stepped forward daringly. "It's been a long morning; let Remus get some lunch, for pete's sake!"

Remus gave him a grateful smile, but when he looked back at the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, he knew it was futile.

"That will do, Mr. Black," Professor Kettleburn replied. "When I want your opinion, I shall ask for it."

"It's all right, guys," Remus called to his friends. "I'll see you in Potions."

Sirius gave him a sympathetic shrug, then followed the others up to the castle.

Remus turned to the professor. "OK, sir, what is it today?"

"Snorkfuckles, lad. Don't go laughing at the name–"

Remus snickered in spite of himself.

"–They're bloody dangerous and will tear a werewolf to bits. At _any_ time of the month," he added, raising his eyebrows at the boy meaningfully.

Remus made a face. "Great."

"Come on, I'll show you how to handle them. Don't make that face, Mr. Lupin; I'm not doing this for my health. Dumbledore wants you to know your natural enemies, and I've got no choice but to teach you. Now get into that paddock." He slapped Remus on the back with a powerful hand that sent him stumbling forward.

"Yes, sir," Remus muttered gloomily.

Half an hour later, Kettleburn had gone to the greenhouses to attend to some errant Flobberworms, and Remus stood alone among a herd of Snorkfuckles, practicing, in turn, Banishing, Defensive, and Shield Charms, each of which seemed easy enough. He wasn't bad at charms, after all, and despite their size – something between a horse and an antelope, Remus would guess – the Snorks weren't very quick. They were quick-witted, for certain, and Remus had no doubt that they knew he was there – knew a _werewolf_ was there. Had he truly posed a threat to them, they likely would not have hesitated to rip his limbs off.

But for the most part, he thought as he charmed another one into submission, they were like every other creature he'd encountered in Professor Kettleburn's extra lessons – creatures that were supposed to be great enemies of werewolves, but in fact turned out to be eminently rational beasts who had no reason to harm him. It was wizardkind that attributed these bloodthirsty characteristics to the world of magical creatures, he thought angrily.

He ventured a hand out to one of the Snorks and patted its nose. "You're just trying to get by, day to day, aren't you?" he said softly to it. "You and me both."

A scraping of hooves behind him and the scent of a new creature made him turn around. The Snorkfuckles whinnied and clustered together, backing away from the newcomer. At the edge of the pen stood a proud stag, its light brown coat gleaming in the winter sunlight. It bowed its head at Remus with strange formality.

Remus was startled, but intrigued. "Pleased to meet you, too," he murmured, bowing slightly himself. He cocked his head. "You seem... familiar. Do I know you?" What a strange feeling, he mused – to think you've met a _stag_ before! He must be lightheaded from missing lunch, that was it.

The great animal before him stepped forward cautiously, as if testing its legs for the first time. It soon gained confidence in its steps, though, and began strolling around the paddock. No, Remus thought incredulously, not strolling. _Strutting_. The blasted thing was showing itself off to the Snorks!

He laughed. "Well, someone certainly thinks he's the head of this crowd, doesn't he?" Remus called to the animal. It made its way back to his side and tucked its great head down, nudging Remus's shoulder.

"Ouf!" He reached a hand up and patted its strong neck. "Where did you come from?" he added, looking around. "The Forest? I didn't know creatures as beautiful as you lived in there."

The Snorks behind him snorted at that, and he turned around apologetically. "Sorry, friends," he chuckled, then cast another Shield Charm at them, just in case.

"Oi, Lupin!" Professor Kettleburn's voice called across the lawn. "You about done in there, lad? Got those beasts under control?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Yes, Professor," he answered, giving the stag one last stroke. "You'd better get out of here, mate," he whispered to it, "or you'll find yourself under the microscope of some first-year Hufflepuffs."

The stag looked momentarily terrified at that, then bent its head and knocked into Remus's arm gently, in parting. It turned and galloped out of the paddock, off towards the Forest.

"Goodbye," Remus called softly after it. "I hope I see you again." He locked the paddock and dropped the keys in Professor Kettleburn's outstretched hand, then headed up to the castle for lunch.

* * *

"What the hell? You too, James?"

"Well, I couldn't let Peter be the only one who'd shown Remus how cool his friends really are."

"Honest to flipping hell, you guys. You made _me_ promise not to show him until we were all ready."

"It's not our fault we're ready before you, mate."

"That's bollocks, and you know it. I was ready first, you ingrate! You and Peter would never have managed it without me!"

"Oh, come on guys, quit it. Now I've done it, and James has done it. You're the only one, Sirius. What's the hold up? You chicken?"

"Chicken? Oh, you'll pay for that one, you dirty _rat..._ Like I don't have better things to do than show off to a herd of _Snorkfuckles_, for crying out loud!"

"They were in my face. I had to show them who was in charge."

"Oh, yes, brilliant. Startle a bunch of Snorks while they're penned up with a werewolf. Really thinking that one through, mate."

"They were too dead scared of me to bother Remus."

"Yeah? Well, while you were off playing Captain Antelope, I was getting Charms notes from Evans."

"Why, you bloody traitor! I'll show _you_ what–"

"Come on, guys, just keep your voices down, all right? Now, Sirius, for real this time: _when_ are you showing him yours?"

"And I told _you_, Peter, I'll show him when I–"

"Oh, hey, Remus. What's new in the library today? Any good, er, books?"

* * *

"Gods, Remus, did you see that catch? It was amazing, wasn't it? James really is the best Seeker in Hogwarts' history, isn't he?"

Remus smiled, as he and Peter walked back up to the castle from the Quidditch pitch, glowing from Gryffindor's victory and their friend's shining glory. "Yeah, Pete," he agreed. "The lad certainly does have a knack for finding that Snitch. Say-" he looked around. "Where's Sirius? He was right behind us."**  
**  
"Don't know. Probably went to chat up that Ravenclaw girl he's been eyeing. Listen, I'm going to try to catch up to James, OK? I really want to congratulate him. That catch was bloody _brilliant..._"

"Sure, Pete. I'll be up in a minute." He may not need a cane yet, but Remus was still not the world's fastest walker, with his creaking old-man body. He sighed and shuffled up the lawn as the rest of the school gradually filed past him.

Alone on the grounds, he paused by the lake to sit and rest for a moment before tackling the final climb to the castle. He had just found a comfortable rock to perch on, when out of nowhere a great black dog came barrelling towards him, knocking him to the snow-dusted ground.

"Whoa!" he shouted. "What the–" He'd expected the animal to bare its teeth at him after such an attack, but to his surprise, the dog settled himself on top of Remus and started licking his face.

"Agh! Whoa, there– for the love of–!" He laughed in spite of himself and pushed the animal away. "Friendly, are we?" He smirked.

The dog backed off and sat down a few feet away, eyeing Remus intently. Its tongue hung out of its mouth as it panted happily.

Remus scrambled back onto the rock, watching the dog carefully. "Where did you come from?" he asked it, then caught himself and laughed. "I seem to be asking that of a lot of strange animals lately," he muttered.

The dog moved closer and tentatively rested its head on Remus's knee.

"You haven't seen a rat and a stag wandering around here anywhere, have you?" He picked up a stone and tossed it absently into the lake, missing the twinkle that flashed through the great dog's eyes.

"What do you want, then? Food?" Remus continued chattering at his new companion. "I'm afraid I don't have any, friend. But I _am_ glad you're here," he added. "Hard to keep up with the crowd sometimes, you know..." He forced a smile and tapped a hand to his right knee. "Bones don't always mend the way they're supposed to, yeah?"

The dog peered up at him sympathetically, then bent and rubbed its nose against the wounded legs hidden under the boy's robes. It whimpered softly.

"Ah, don't go and get all emotional on me," Remus scolded the dog. "I shouldn't be laying my problems on you, anyway. You probably came out here to play, didn't you?"

The dog looked up eagerly and wagged its tail. It gave a soft bark and ran behind a tree to retrieve a spare branch from the ground. It trotted back to Remus and laid the stick down.

Remus chuckled. "Aha! So I was right!" He picked up the stick and tossed it along the shore of the lake. Right on cue, the dog raced after it, capturing the stick between its jaws and returning it promptly to Remus.

Remus took the stick and patted the dog affectionately on the head. "Nice work, mate," he grinned, then threw it again.

They stayed by the shore of the lake for most of the afternoon, Remus watching the dog's boundless energy with a mix of pride and envy. When it came time to head back to the castle for dinner, he reached both hands out and ruffled the dog behind its ears.

"Thanks, mate." He smiled. "I have a feeling I'll see you again."

The dog leaned into the caress, then nipped at Remus's hand and trotted back towards the Quidditch pitch.

Remus shook his head in wonder and began the climb back up to the castle.

* * *

"You played _fetch_ with him? Oh, real original, Dogman."

"Lick my balls, Bambi! At least _I_ did something fun with him. Peter just sat on his rat's ass in the chair, and all you did was prance around for a pack of bloodthirsty prats who would _eat_ Remus if they had the chance."

"Guys, come on..."

"Shut up, Pete. This one thinks he's better than me. The _stag_, I'll have you know, is a _noble_ animal. Don't you remember what Professor Binns told us about Bartholomew the Benevolent in the thirteenth century, whose stag form rescued a thousand children from drowning in a pool of venomous snake blood, and... what are you laughing at?"

"_You_, you great git. Well, fine then. No sense in arguing over whose form is better. Clearly, I would win that battle anyway."

"Hey! _I'm_ the one that can reach the knot in the Willow!"

"Yes, Pete, but Remus could also eat you alive if he so chose, once we reached the Shack."

"Now now, you're scaring the lad, James. I'm sure Remus wouldn't eat a rat unless he'd had his fill of venison."

"Exactly. Just as I was – wait! Oh, now you'd better run, Sirius Black, or I'll–"

"Guys! Come on. It's the Moon tomorrow. What the hell is our plan?"

"Our plan is to _finally_ give Remus some bloody company during the Moon, for the first time in his fucking life."

"Listen. I'll use my Invisibility Cloak to–"

"Remus, good chap! There you are. We were just looking for you. Time for a spot of lunch, yeah?"

* * *

The night air was crisp and clean and in other circumstances would have been what people might call _refreshing_. But Remus found the smell of the approaching night disquieting, almost nauseating; he knew all too well what lay ahead for him. He followed Madam Pomfrey across the lawn to the base of the Whomping Willow, carrying a satchel slung low over his shoulder.

She paused a decent distance from it and pulled her wand out of her robes. "_Prolato_," she muttered, and the wand itself grew and grew, until it had become a fifteen-foot branch. "Here, Remus, do us a favour and take the other end, would you please?"

He shuffled back and lifted the end of the branch, helping her guide it towards the knot on the tree that would immobilize it long enough for him to slip inside. They found the spot and prodded it. Right on cue, the tree stopped flailing.

"All right, dear, in you go," she said briskly. "Do you want me to come with you, get you settled?"

"No, thank you, ma'am. I know the drill by now. I'll be fine." He squared his shoulders and steeled his nerves. "But thank you, all the same."

She smiled ruefully at him, then retreated back a few steps. "Very well, dear. Off you go. I'll be back for you tomorrow afternoon, then."

Remus nodded. He took a deep breath and strode forward, ducking into the trunk of the tree and climbing down the flimsy ladder stationed there. He reached the bottom and found himself in that familiar, dismal tunnel. He thought wryly about putting some pictures up on the walls, to make it more homey, since he was here so bloody often and all.

He made his way down the tunnel and after about ten minutes of crouched shuffling, he emerged in the sitting room of the Shrieking Shack. He shuddered, despising that name, knowing it was he himself who did the shrieking, although he never remembered doing it. He slowly climbed the stairs to the upper floor. It didn't really matter where he started out when he Transformed; he would inevitably end up tearing around the entire Shack, ripping things to shreds. But somehow it always made him feel better to start upstairs in the bedroom. Like a civilised person.

A whimpering sound in the sitting room stopped him halfway up the stairs, however. He whirled around in alarm, eyes searching frantically for the source of it. Surely an animal couldn't have gotten in here? He'd have to find it, and make sure it was safely outside before nightfall. He would never forgive himself if he harmed a living creature while in his werewolf form.

Just then, the great black dog, the one from the lake that day, emerged from behind the tattered sofa.

Remus smiled warmly, relieved to see what amounted to a familiar face. "Oh, it's you!" he exclaimed. "Well, you can't stay, I'm afraid. Give me another hour and you definitely won't want to play catch with me." He shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry. Maybe another time?"

He had a distinct feeling that the dog understood him, yet it did not leave. Instead, it trotted up to him and nuzzled his leg. Remus chuckled.

"Ah, you great fool," he said softly. "I like you, too, but trust me, you're going to want to get out of here." He bent down and ruffled the dog's ears. "Please, friend. Now."

But there was another scuffling sound, and the dog looked up at Remus, then over to the doorway leading to the tunnel. A rat was sneaking out of it and into the room. A grey rat... very familiar-looking...

Remus furrowed his brow. "Hello," he said to the rat. "I know you, too, don't I? Yes! You kept me company that morning in the common room!" He looked back at the dog. "What are you both doing here? Honestly, I'm happy to spend time with you, but really, tonight is just not a good night for me. Please understand?"

The rat scurried forward and stopped at Remus's feet, then looked up expectantly.

"Oh, very well. I'll pick you up for a few minutes, but then you truly need to leave. OK?"

The rat chittered happily as Remus bent down to retrieve it from the floor. He brought it up to his face and looked intently at it. "You don't quite look like any rat I've ever seen, you know..." he began.

The dog barked.

The back door of the Shack came flying open, and a magnificent stag appeared in the doorway. Remus blinked in amazement.

"What the–" He stared at the three animals, his mind reeling. "I met you all..." he began slowly. "Alone... and now you're all here..."

The stag moved forward slowly, careful not to disrupt any of the furnishings or make too much noise on the floorboards. It was the same height as Remus, and it looked deeply into his eyes. The dog padded up beside the stag, while the rat followed and quickly clambered onto the dog's back.

The dog whipped its head around in annoyance and barked at the rat, then shook its great body until the rat fell to the floor again. It scurried frantically over to the stag and hid behind a back hoof, whimpering. _Complaining_, it seemed to Remus. The stag bent its head and knocked an antler gently, but firmly, into the dog's shoulder, then rose again and glared at the dog.

Remus's eyebrows shot to the ceiling as he gasped in disbelief. There was something remarkable about this behaviour; he could have sworn he had seen it somewhere before. And there was definitely something not exactly... _animal_ about this stag. About this rat. About this dog.

He stood there for what seemed like hours, staring at the three of them. _No_, he thought. _It couldn't be..._ His mind raced through every conversation he'd ever had with his friends about his monthly ordeal.

_"Come on, Remus, there must be something we can do to help you out during the Moon…"_

_"Hey, Remus, hurry up, old man, or we'll be late for Transfiguration. Lots to learn today, best to be on time…"_

_"Oi, mate, you seen that book I had on Bartholomew the Benevolent? Now there was a chap worth studying, I say, one of the first known Animagi, you know…"_

_"Remus? What's your favourite animal, mate?"_

Suddenly the rat jumped over to one of the tattered armchairs and began squeaking loudly. Remus followed it, his mind alternately racing and fogging, as he tried to figure out what was happening – and tried to push down the growing certainty of his werewolf intuition that these animals were… that his friends had actually… He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, as the rat leaped up and down excitedly. Attached to the cushions of the chair was a scrap piece of parchment. Remus picked it up and read it with widening eyes.

**_Happy Christmas, "Moony"! _******

**_Breathe, mate. You look like you just found out the Moon comes twice a month. And then relax. We've done the research. You can't hurt us. Well, all right, you could hurt Peter, but fuck it, he's small and fast and can go hide up a tree if it looks like you're going to eat him. So, we're here to keep you company. Sorry we're late. Didn't know it would take us five years to get here. Now, are you going to show us around this hellhole, or what?_**

**_Cheers,  
"Wormtail"  
"Padfoot"  
"Prongs"_**

**_PS - Like the new names? They were James's idea. Unless you don't like them, in which case blame Sirius._**

Remus looked up incredulously. "You have _got_ to be fucking kidding me," he deadpanned. "There's no way you lot are smart enough to have managed this."

The dog lunged at him, knocking him backwards. Remus laughed. "OK, OK! You're all bloody geniuses!" He looked at them fondly. "I– did you really– I mean, is this for real? It's you? All of you, here, tonight? I…" He gave up trying to express how he felt, knowing he would never manage to do it – knowing he would never be able to tell them how much this meant to him. "It's March, you know," he said instead. "You already gave me socks for Christmas."

The stag stepped forward and kicked its front leg in Remus's direction, then snorted derisively.

Remus laughed. "Aha. I see I can say anything I want now and you can't argue."

The rat dashed towards him and started nipping at his ankles.

"Ow! _Fine_, fine, you _can_ argue." He smiled broadly and beckoned towards the staircase. "Come on, let me put my things upstairs; it's almost time." He reached the steps and turned to look over his shoulder at his friends. "And guys?" he called softly.

They gathered around him, ears alert.

"Thank you."

THE END


End file.
